Only For You
by Interstella
Summary: John receives Sherlock's 'true note'. Spoilers for Season 2 Episode 3 - The Reichenbach Fall. Only slash if you squint and wish really hard.


Only For You

Less than a day after the _incident_ it had arrived in the post, addressed to him in a simple red box. He had taken it inside sat on his bed and stared at it for a full ten minutes before gently pulling at the black velvet ribbon.

Most people wouldn't have noticed the fact that the box was identical to the one that had arrived last Christmas for Sherlock. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but John wasn't most people. After living with Sherlock for so long, you become more observant, you begin to see things differently.

So it wasn't much of a surprise when out of the box fell a phone. An older model iPhone with a pink case, leaving no doubt as to where it came from. Gently fingering the surface, John swallowed before pressing the 'on' button, watching with trepidation as the screen lit up.

There was only one file on the phone, a text file labelled "Dear John", and John had to choke back a tearful, ironic laugh at that title. After a deep breath, he sat down on the bed and began to read.

John,

I sincerely hope that it is you reading this, and that Lestrade hasn't somehow managed to get his hands on this, my true note. It is meant only for you.

I know what it is that I must do. Moriarty is clever, oh so very clever, but not as clever as me. He underestimated me, a folly on his part – the fairytales were far too obvious and I would have to be a fool to play by his rules. But play the fool I shall. Knowing what was to come, I walk into his trap.

There are things that require saying, that cannot be said while under the eyes of the sniper. Moriarty is not a simpleton – people will be listening so I cannot do it in person.

You know that I am not a sentimental man. I do not keep items for nothing more than memories. I do not visit the grave of my father. I am a man of logic. Which is why this is difficult for me to explain. You see, you have changed me. Two years ago, I would never have done this. Two years ago I would have protected myself above all else. But today, I do this for you.

I am not a fool. I know exactly what it is that Moriarty is planning, and I have a plan of my own. I know that my life is forfeit and there is no way around that. I have searched and found none. So if I am to die, then I take James Moriarty with me.

You have been by my side for longer than anybody else has been able to stand me. There are few in this world that I would count close to me, and I do this for them. Moriarty has gunmen trained on you all. The only three friends I have in this world. Lestrade. Mrs. Hudson. and yourself.

There are a few things that still need to be done. I have already removed any potentially harmful experiments from the flat, however I was pressed for time and the benign substances are still within the flat. I trust that you will be careful when disposing of them as certain mixtures still have the potential to be deadly. I do not wish you to join me this soon.

There is a notebook under the microwave that details the solutions to many of the cases that I have recently been 'officially' working on and a few that I have not. Please ensure that Lestrade receives this. Whether he chooses to use it or not is up to him.

Mummy will most likely be told by Microft, but meet with her at some point. She has long wanted to meet you and this would please her very much.

All my possessions, everything I own belongs to you now. Mycroft may protest but you can tell him exactly where to stuff it. If he insists, then give him my violin. He hates it. With a passion.

I am not entirely sure what one generally writes in a note such as this. It makes logical sense to include my reasoning, things that require to be finished and my last will. Yet something seems to be missing.

Ah. Something personal.

When we first met, I deduced that you and I could easily co-exist. I didn't quite grasp the extent that our friendship would reach. You are my friend. My best friend. My only real friend. Lestrade was there to help me overcome my addiction, but you were what stopped me from relapsing. The night we met, you shot somebody for me – took a life to save mine. It was then that I knew.

Since then our lives have been hectic, going from one extreme to another. From running for our lives to you dealing with a very bored me. You have been there when I have been at my cleverest and when I have been at my most idiotic. When The Woman came, you stood by me and when she "died", you made sure that I wouldn't fall back into old habits. I have never thanked you for everything that you have done for me. I suppose that was my biggest mistake- taking you for-granted.

I cannot have been easy to live with and I very much doubt that my first warning was clear on that. For every morning I woke you unnecessarily, for ever night that I kept you awake, for every rude word and every time you apologised on my behalf. For every insinuation towards that which was not real and for drugging your coffee. I apologise. Although you have never asked for one, and you have already forgiven me for those, it needs to be said.

I only hope that you can forgive me for this also.

During our time together, you have taught me things that I never before wanted to learn. Not only about things like the solar system, but also about life itself. You have shown me emotions- made me understand better why people do what they do and how it makes them feel. Even while you have trouble trusting, you wear your heart on your sleeve.

Which leads me to understand that the consequences my actions will be hard for you to integrate into your daily life and will obviously cause you much pain. It cannot be helped. My death will free you from the threat of yours and for that, I will not apologise.

You need to move on from this life – it is not healthy. Your therapist will no doubt tell you that mourning me is normal and will help, but it will merely drag on what will no doubt be a difficult transition. Leave the flat, find a woman, have children and do whatever it is that normal people do. Have a life. Be happy.

Often you are an idiot for not seeing what is right in front of you. The young woman who frequents the café every Monday, Thursday and Friday evenings has been watching you. On the few occasions that you have spoken to her, her pulse rate rises and her pupils dilate – she wants you.

I don't know how to end this. Every time I think I've said everything I need to, something else comes up. So I think I end on a simple note.

Good-bye, John.

AN: Okay, sorry! I know it's a little sad. And I couldn't decide whether or not to make it Johnlock. I decided to make it up to you. It's not intended to be romantic or anything, but if you take it that way, then you can take it that way xD

Before ANYONE asks, I do NOT intend on continuing/sequeling this fic. I might do one day, but it's highly doubtful.

For people following me because of The Resonance of Fate, I am working on it... slowly. I have about half a chapter done but it's quite hard to work on this one. So I apologise at the long wait.

This story came about when I tried to do an AMV with no sound to have as my desktop background (I have a program that allows video's to play rather than simply having a still picture). Then it turned into a "Let's put a sad note on here". I started writing the letter before I realized that the program I have been using since upgrading my computer doesn't have the ability to place writing on the vid anywhere but in the middle.

So I did it as a fic instead. Sorry if it's OOC... It's meant to be as sappy as Sherlock gets... I wanted to add something derogatory about Mycroft's involvement in Sherlock's 'demise', but I couldn't fit it in...


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